A Christmas to Forget
by gleechild
Summary: Sequel to A Thanksgiving to Remember. Because Chuck should have been in Roman Holiday. Chuck's POV.


**WARNING: **I HATE spoilers. If anything in this story actually happens on the show, it is pure coincidence.

If you like spoilers and already _know_ that something happens or something _doesn't_ happen, please **keep it to yourself**. I do NOT want to read about it in any reviews or comments about whether I was right or wrong. Please respect my wishes. Thank you. :-) Sharon

* * *

This story is a sequel to **A Thanksgiving to Remember.**

If you don't want to read it first, just know that Chuck spent Thanksgiving Day with Blair. He arrived at her apartment at the same time as Serena. It continues through the episode _Blair Waldorf Must Pie:_ her bathroom, the visit to the Humphrey loft, and the sub shop around the corner. Any references to Thanksgiving in this story refer to my version, not the TV version.

* * *

10:00 am (NYC) : 4:00 pm (Monaco)

**Monaco huh? Anything I need to know**

He snapped his phone shut. Like he was going to tell her anything after the stunt she pulled at the ball. So, she finally found out where he was. _Big f-ing deal._

He had thought after spending the day with her on Thanksgiving that they were closer than they'd ever been before. They had always been good friends. He respected her and she was amused by him. It was a comfortable relationship. She came to him with problems with Nate; and he helped and protected her.

Then she'd taken his dare to dance at Victrola and in the course of one night she had taken something more.

He didn't know what it was but it made him off balanced. He found himself struggling to return to who he was. He had bordered on desperate the day before her birthday.

Hiding his gut reaction at hearing her deny their night together, he had purchased the diamond necklace before he could talk himself out of it.

Later that night he just had to tell her something of what he was feeling—that was how comfortable they had always been. Even after she shot him down again, he didn't let up.

And, in the end, she had let him in. She let him come closer than she had ever before. She let him comfort her. Inside he was aching for her pain but cheering that he might actually be getting a chance with her.

He should have known that she would never open up completely to him.

Thanksgiving day he had given her space. Obviously there were things happening with her that she didn't want to share with him—not yet anyway. He had hoped that in time she would learn to trust him…and maybe she had been on her way…but his jealousy got the better of him. He had found himself setting up Nate for a fall.

Blair had flipped when she found out. She knew him too well. He tried to stop her, to make her understand that he wasn't trying to ruin things for her. He had been trying to make her forget about Nate and spend the evening with _him_. Instead of listening, she broke up with him and left him in the middle of the dance floor.

He had searched for her only to find her in the arms of his best friend and rival.

The look on Nate's face before going into that room…he sucked in a breath just thinking about it. He knew Nate was going to make sure that _this_ was the night he'd get Blair back. Nate didn't know what Chuck was feeling inside. Nate only wanted Chuck to be happy for him and wish him luck.

That was the moment that he realized exactly what the "something more" was that Blair had taken from him that night at Victrola.

His heart.

And now _she_ wanted to act like a jealous girlfriend!

He tossed his phone on the bar top he was leaning against before turning to look at the pool again.

His father had spared no expense at making this place resort worthy. And the clientele spared no expense to vacation there…just like they spared no expense when it came to purchasing the teeny strapless bikinis that their gorgeous—and usually fake—bodies flaunted.

It was late afternoon and evening was drawing near. He wasn't going to respond to the message yet. He found it amusing to let her sit and stew about it.

Plus, the pool was starting to empty out and one hottie in particular was giving him the eye. He had far more important things to do than sit around sending texts to his ex.

* * *

01:00 pm (NYC) : 7:00pm (Monaco)_ . three hours later_

* * *

He had just walked into his room, with the hottie at the pool kissing his neck, when his cell phone rang.

Thinking it was Blair, _again_, he almost ignored it. He closed the door while the girl—whatever her name was—started pulling on his shirt. The phone continued its jingle and he decided he was too frustrated at her for interrupting _this_. He was going to get this over with and make sure she just left him the hell alone from now on.

He pushed the girl away and held up a finger to indicate she should hold on. He reached in his pocket for his cell and flipped it open.

"What?" he said, his voice clearly annoyed.

"Is that anyway to treat your best friend?" came Nate's voice over the phone.

"Nathaniel, hello, give me a second," he said. He looked at the girl. He had absolutely no idea what her name was and he didn't really care.

"Get out," he commanded as he pointed to the door. She looked affronted, like she was about to argue but he turned his back on her and walked further into the room, holding the phone back up to his ear.

"So, having a merry one?" he asked. Behind him, the door slammed shut.

"It's….uh…whatever," Nate replied. "Just sitting here, bored out of my mind. I figured, hey, you're my boy, got mad stories to tell about this vacation already—I'm sure. Why not give Chuck a call to be entertained a little?"

Chuck smirked, "You're kidding right? Why don't you just call Blair? I'm sure she could be more entertaining than I." He responded suggestively, "Then again, maybe phone sex isn't in her repertoire." He hadn't gotten to that with her, but, then again, he had never been separated from her for that long when _they_ were together.

Nate just laughed, almost hesitantly.

Chuck was nothing if not supportive of his best friend even though he fought to make sure his words didn't reveal the bitterness he felt.

"Nah, she'd just want to know if I'm going back to New York tonight or staying here in Connecticut. It's boring here, but she's dealing with her _two_ dads," Nate said the last with an ick-factor to his voice.

"The whole situation is just too weird for me," Nate said. "I'm still trying to make up my mind…the lesser of two evils, so to speak."

Chuck fell back on his bed and had a thought. Twisting his lips into a slow smile, "How about a third evil?" he asked.

"What did you have in mind?" Nate replied.

"Join me," Chuck suggested.

Nate laughed out loud. Chuck didn't say anything.

"You're not kidding," Nate said.

"Nope. After the month you've had? You deserve a break. Not some boring mausoleum in the country side. Palm trees, sun, and babes: the only way to go," Chuck said.

"You know," Nate considered, "That sounds exactly like what I need. I'll let Blair know what I'm doing, book the flight, and be on your doorstep tomorrow morning like the proverbial lump of coal you deserve in your stocking," Nate laughed.

"Perfect Nathaniel, except…" Chuck began.

"What?" Nate asked.

"Why call Blair? I knew you wanted her back, didn't know you wanted to be her little bitch again. Same ole Nate," Chuck snickered.

"Hey, things aren't like that this time," Nate said.

"So why call her? Going to ask permission?" Chuck teased.

"Fine, forget Blair," Nate sighed. "I'll be there soon. Save me some eggnog."

"Done," Chuck said.

He closed the phone, pleased that Nate had accepted. He was lonely and needed somebody to entertain _him_.

His father's people were annoying while trying to keep an eye on him. And he still hadn't broken his damn bed in. Every time he managed to get in bed with some random girl since arriving he kept being overrun with thoughts of Blair. He found himself comparing each girl to Blair and finding them lacking. His excitement would soon wan and he ended up coming up with some reason to kick the chosen girl out of his bed.

He cursed and closed his eyes.

Blair still had him off balanced, still unable to find his way back to who he was before the night in the limo.

He figured he might as well have one last really good vacation with Nate before returning home. Who knew what would happen in the coming months? He had played with fire of his own making and was hoping he didn't get burned.

He had really missed Nate…he just hoped Nate wouldn't spend too much of the time talking about Blair.

_Speaking of…_he opened his phone back up. It was time to respond to her text.

**only 1 question: How did you fake ur virginity for N?**

The thought of Nate having her after he did made his stomach clench. She was supposed to be _his_. He was her first and he, selfishly maybe, wanted to be her only.

He cursed again. You would think he'd be done with this stupid moping by now—he _is_ Chuck Bass for crying out loud!

He wasn't supposed to _mope_. And as pathetic as it was, he kept waiting for her texts. For one, he enjoyed toying with her; but secondly, and more importantly, he knew that every time she sent him a text or waited for his response she had to be thinking about _him_. It gave him a sick little perk just thinking about it.

As he began drifting off to sleep he wondered why he, once again, found himself alone in his bed. He should be giving some hot young thing the Chuck Bass Christmas Special—screwing the crap out of her and not comparing her at _all_ to a certain _B_ named B back in New York City who had snatched his heart and thrown it away.

* * *

7:00 pm (NYC) : 1:00am (Monaco)_ . six hours later_

* * *

He jerked and slowly came back to consciousness. His phone was making an annoying beeping sound that indicated he had a new voice message. He must not have heard it ringing.

He picked up the cell where it lay on the bed next to his head. He smirked when he saw the missed call was from Blair. He pressed the 1 for his messages.

"Chuck," she started. She was clearly exasperated. "You are not answering my calls," _understatement of the year_, "to torture me I am sure," _just like you've tortured me_, "but please, for the love of God, do not tell anybody about us. Okay? Please? Please."

So she hadn't told Nate anything. And Nate, being so inexperienced himself, would never even have noticed that his virtuous Blair wasn't innocent anymore.

He smirked, _love of God?_ Who did she think he was? There wasn't a religious bone in his body.

But he wasn't going to tell anyone. Why would he? He'd already lost the girl. He didn't want to lose the best friend too.

He dropped his head back to the pillow and tossed the phone away from him.

He was going to make this as painful as possible for her. She's scared now? Wait until tomorrow. He wasn't going to get to give her a traditional present this year—but it _was_ Christmas after all…he had to give her something.

* * *

12:00 am (NYC) : 6:00 am (Monaco)_ . five hours later_

* * *

Pounding on the door woke him up this time. He looked at the door and grinned. He hopped out of bed and walked over to open it.

"Nathaniel!"

"Merry Christmas, bro!" Nate laughed. He walked into the room and dropped his bags. He looked around.

"What? No girl?" Nate asked in surprise.

"Dude, it's Christmas morning," Chuck shook his head.

"Ah, gotcha. It's not an every day occurrence though—you without a girl. That's like the nightmare before Christmas," Nate laughed.

Chuck smirked. He had no idea how true those words were.

"So, welcome, welcome," Chuck began. "Here's the bar, where you'll be drinking," Chuck pointed to the bar. "Here's the bathroom, where you'll be throwing up the after affects of the first," Chuck opened the bathroom door. "And here's the couch, where you shall be sleeping." He swung his arm towards the couch.

Nate flopped down backwards onto it and sighed.

"Breakfast?" Chuck asked, quirking his eyebrow.

"Yes," Nate said, "The damn airline food was horrible as usual."

Chuck went to pick up the hotel extension to order.

Nate stretched and looked around the room.

"No decorations? Huh," Nate asked. "You really aren't feeling the holiday spirit this year."

"No, and something tells me, with the arrival of Max, the Grinch is back and ready for action," Chuck joked. He could care less about Christmas this year…or any years before. An excuse to spend time with family? Please, he was looking for any excuse to get away from them. Good tidings of joy had evaporated about the time that Nate had his tongue down Blair's throat.

"Did you just call me a dog?" Nate looked up a little amazed that Chuck remembered a Dr. Seuss book…more likely it was the movie.

Chuck laughed. "Ok," he pointed his thumbs towards his self, "shower." He pointed his thumbs at Nate, "food. Then we'll celebrate."

"Oh yeah," Nate said, cracking up, "we'll have to take _Who-ville_ by storm."

Chuck gave him a weird look. "Nathaniel, please." Sometimes he said the most ridiculous things.

Nate just laughed. Chuck went into the bathroom.

He closed the door and paused at the sink, looking at himself in the mirror.

This was the first time he had seen Nate since the ball. He felt relief that he had gotten it over with. He also felt twinges of envy that were driving him insane. He needed to get himself under control. There was no way he was going to have a good time today if he didn't stop thinking about Nate screwing Blair every time he looked at him.

And if he didn't have fun, Nate wouldn't have fun, and then Nate would start asking questions. Chuck was an accomplished liar and could pull any story out of a hat and feed it to Nate who would accept it whole-heartedly. Except the questions, on top of his thoughts, would work to scheme against him instead—he just knew it.

Sighing, he got in the shower and tried to think of the perfect non-traditional present to give to Blair. He knew what he wanted to give her, but he couldn't mail that…and he needed to be connected to that particular part of his anatomy for the full effect.

* * *

9:00 am (NYC) : 3:00 pm (Monaco)_ . nine hours later_

* * *

Chuck figured now was as good a time as ever to send her his present.

He had gotten through the day swimmingly well with Nate who, shockingly, never brought Blair up once.

He got some girl to take a picture of him and Nate earlier. He thought he looked a little out of it—they _had_ lit up before that. But he knew Blair would get the message and the look on his face would be threatening enough.

**Don't worry, B. Who would I Tell?**

He smirked, thinking of her reaction when she read that and saw the picture.

"Who could you possibly be talking to? Everyone we know is probably still opening presents," Nate's voice sounded.

Chuck looked up. He always went for the truth if at all possible. "Blair. She was looking for you."

"Oh, yeah. I turned my phone off after I booked the flight. What'd you tell her?"

"Not to worry," Chuck grinned. "C'mon, I feel the urge to admire the view by the pool."

* * *

9:30 am (NYC) : 3:30 pm (Monaco)_ . a half hour later_

* * *

"Three o'clock, yellow strapless, she wants me," Chuck boasted to his friend.

Nate just smiled and took another sip of his drink.

"C'mon Nate, you've hardly looked at any girls here," Chuck said.

"I just got back with Blair, remember?" Nate took another sip.

"You can still look you know, you always did before," Chuck rolled his eyes at him.

"Well, I'm just not…interested?" Nate shrugged.

"Wow, she was that good?" Chuck couldn't believe he was the one bringing up _this_ particular conversation, but he was finding more and more that he wanted to know _some _thing.

"Look, man, I don't want to talk about that," Nate looked up at him.

"Fine, fine," Chuck shrugged. "I'm just saying…" _He_ had told Nate tons of stories about his escapades.

"Leave it alone," Nate said softly to him.

"Okay," Chuck looked away.

The air was filled with silence until Nate broke it a minute later.

"We didn't," Nate said, looking down at his glass.

Startled, Chuck looked back at him, "What?"

"We didn't have sex," Nate repeated.

"You're kidding…" but Chuck had seen them go into that room. He had seen that look on Nate's face, and he knew how much Blair was in love with Nate.

"We were close…but" Nate took another sip of his drink.

"But what?" Chuck asked. Nate just shook his head.

"C'mon, you can't leave me hanging. Maybe I can help you out with your technique," Chuck winked. Inside he was completely floored.

"Can you help me predict the effect of accessories?" Nate rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"Her hair, it got tangled in whatever necklace she was wearing. I tried to get it out for her but she pushed me away and said she'd do it herself," Nate said.

"Well, uh…" Chuck couldn't figure out what to say and he almost forgot to breathe.

"So why not wait for her to take it off and go at it again?" Chuck finally managed.

"Duh, I tried. She got all weird and pushed at me to get off her. She ran into the bathroom and wouldn't answer. She finally came out like twenty minutes later, apologized, got dressed, and left," Nate shook his head, still remembering how confused he felt.

Chuck couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't understand why she didn't say anything to him. She just let him keep on believing…?

"I think she was sick," Nate said.

Chuck looked at him, "What makes you say that?"

"She kept the faucet running the entire time she was in there but I still heard something like gagging," Nate shook his head in disgust. "She came out and had no makeup on. She didn't want to go to dessert like I had planned. She said something about us working things out before doing it, I agreed, she left."

"I just can't figure out why she didn't just tell me she was sick. She didn't have to come up with some story," Nate shrugged. "But at least we're back together. And, don't worry bro, I'll seal that deal _real_ soon." He nudged Chuck's shoulder.

Chuck hardly felt the push. He was digesting everything he'd just heard. He needed to make a phone call…

"Maybe you just have an effect on her upchuck reflex?" he forced a smile and a laugh. "You're having an effect on my bladder's reflex right now. Be back in two shakes."

Entering the hotel, he turned the corner and found an empty alcove.

He pulled out his phone and found a number that he never thought he'd use again.

"Hello?"

"Serena…it's Chuck," he said.

"Why the hell are you calling me _now_?" she snapped.

He didn't understand why she was so pissed at him. He thought she'd gotten over the little thing that happened when she got back to town. Well, not so that she'd forgiven him, but so that she was at least civil in passing. He hadn't said anything to her since Thanksgiving.

Remembering the perplexing situation he had walked into that particular morning, he opened his mouth to answer her question but she interrupted him.

"Calling to say welcome?" She sounded like she was extremely upset about something…and he hadn't done anything.

"Uh, no…I have a question…" Chuck began.

"If it has anything to do with bunk beds and sharing a bathroom, I will _kill_ you!" Serena growled at him.

He had no idea what she was talking about.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm calling about Blair damn it," he snapped back at her.

"What about her?" Serena asked.

"Is she…sick? Cause, Nate said something about the night of the ball…in the bathroom, just like Thanksgiving," he said.

There was silence on the other end of the line.

Why wasn't Serena responding? Was there something wrong with Blair?

"I'll handle it," she said.

"Handle it? Handle what!" Chuck was getting annoyed.

"Just forget everything you heard Chuck," Serena snarled. "This is none of your business."

"Yes it is! If she's sick—," he began.

"Sick! Sick! Your whole family is sick! Just leave Blair alone, leave my family alone, leave me alone, and get out of my life!" She hung up on him.

He cursed and tried to call her back. It went straight to voicemail. He closed the phone, took a deep breath and tried to think.

He remembered Blair saying to Serena that she didn't mean to do it. He still didn't know what "it" was.

When she locked herself in the bathroom, Serena had freaked out when she heard the toilet flush.

Later Blair told Serena something about a doctor….

And now Nate said she'd been sick but acted like nothing had happened.

Almost like she wanted to be sick…

_Eat it_, he remembered Serena whispering to Blair when they sat down at the sub shop and she picked at her food.

He put his phone away. He knew what was wrong with Blair. She wasn't going to die. At least he could rest easy about that.

He had to go home. She was dating Nate again now, but she hadn't been able to go all the way with him. She had made herself sick because of Chuck. The necklace she was wearing was the one he had given her.

Maybe she really did have feelings for him. Maybe she hadn't been able to dump those feelings as quickly as she had dumped him. Maybe there was still a chance of winning her back.

But he couldn't focus on that right now. They began as friends. He always helped her, and always protected her. He'd never dealt with any crap like this before—he didn't even want to deal with it now. Most girls do stupid things to make them selves more appealing—and it definitely never hurt _his_ feelings.

But Blair was already perfect; she didn't need to throw up everything she ate. If she was seeing a doctor for the problem, it must've been serious at some point.

He sighed. Why couldn't Blair be the self-assured witty strong-willed girl that he'd originally thought she was before she stripped at his club and showed him another side of the _many_ sides of Blair Waldorf?

Nate wasn't going to understand about cutting the trip short. But he had to talk to Blair. He hoped his jealousy hadn't sent her into that damn bathroom again.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to clear his mind before going back out to Nate.

A stray thought popped in his head. _What the hell was up with Serena?_

Then he winced. He pulled his phone back out of his pocket and pressed a number that he called far too often and wished he'd never have to call again.

"Charles."

"Father. Do you have something to tell me?"

* * *

_The End._


End file.
